


Animal Impulses

by sugarskullstaghead



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark Will Graham, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Games, Slow Build, Will Knows, before mizumono, kind of Dark Will, murder fluff??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarskullstaghead/pseuds/sugarskullstaghead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, when Hannibal smiled - truly smiled, full teeth - Will was reminded of a wild animal, though he often couldn't decide on which animal, specifically . . . Through the diversity of creatures that embodied Hannibal Lector, Will noticed a constancy; it was never hard to imagine any of those animals with their grins stained with blood - just as it was not hard to imagine the doctor in that same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Understanding the mask

Sometimes, when Hannibal smiled - truly smiled, full teeth - Will was reminded of a wild animal, though he often couldn't decide on which animal, specifically. Occasionally, he thought of chimps, and the threat hiding behind their bared teeth. Other times, a hyena came to mind, for the thought of their maniacal, near antagonistic laughter, always a breath away from bursting from their toothy grins (Will kept speculations such as those to himself, as they would no doubt be ill-received by the good doctor). Through the diversity of creatures that embodied Hannibal Lecter, Will noticed a constancy; it was never hard to imagine any of those animals with their grins stained with blood - just as it was not hard to imagine the doctor in that same way.

"Where are your thoughts, Will?" Hannibal's voice slithered in amongst Will's thoughts, and he shook himself back to the present moment, granting the man seated in the armchair opposite him a moment of eye contact. "You seem very far off."

"Not as far as you'd think." Will snorted quietly. Because it was true. Like a snake, Hannibal had found his way to entangle himself effortlessly around everything in Will's life, everything that Will was. WIll's limbs and mind alike were bound by Hannibal Lecter.

"Oh?" The tone Hannibal used was meant to convey surprise. Will knew he was not surprised. "Would I be familiar with the place your mind travels?"

"I'd say so, yes." Will remarks dryly. He waves away the doctor's mock questioning gaze. He pauses briefly, hesitating, then allows himself the tangent he'd been pondering. "How much stock do you put into beliefs regarding 'spirit animals', Doctor Lecter?"

Somehow, Hannibal still seems unsurprised by the direction of the conversation, though Will notices, as per usual, the infinitesimal twitch of the brow when Will calls him 'Doctor Lecter'. He'd long been aware that the older man longed for the both of them to be on strictly first name basis. Hannibal shifted in his seat, regarded Will and then the stag statuette with equal measure of thoughtfulness.

"A belief set closely tied with animism, which has been called by many names, by many different cultures, spread around the world." His words might have been directly from an encyclopedia.

"Thank you for the definition. You failed to answer my question." Hannibal snorted lightly, amused by Will's impudence.

"It is a common, natural desire for humans to associate themselves with the wild beasts, to reaffirm their connection to nature, or to express potential that surpasses humankind's limitations. It is nearly as common an ideal for man as the concept of a deity." His eyes flashed. Will swallowed. "You are aware of my stance towards the ideal of a deity."

"You differentiate humans from the 'wild beasts'." Will observed after a moment's silence. Hannibal smiled, though he did not show teeth.

"An undeserving distinction, perhaps." Will pushed himself to his feet, arched his back until his spine cracked. His restless feet carried him until he stood before Hannibal's desk, which he leaned back against, staring at its owner, eyes dark.

"More like one that depends on each human individually." As expected, Hannibal didn't allow too much distance between them. He soon joined Will at his desk, choosing to stand still opposite him. For once, Will allowed Hannibal to feast on his own reflection in Will's glossy eyes, while he did the same. Such an intimate act, an one Will had tended to avoid at all costs before; then again, Hannibal was notoriously good at introducing Will to a world of Firsts.

"How does that vary with you, Will?" Hannibal asked. Will chewed on the question, biding his time before he answered.

"It's a line that I sometimes lose track of."

"Do you find yourself endeavoring to ascertain that line, between humanity and beastliness often? Or has it come to the point where you no longer mind when you lose sight of it?" Hannibal's tone might have been have been used to coax a young child into admitting that they had a crush on a classmate.

"That... That differs on the circumstance. There have been... There are times when that animalistic aspect of me can be... Helpful. Necessary." Hannibal tilts his head as he accepts Will's words, and Will notes his pleasure at such a response. He falters when the doctor doesn't take the conversation down the expected avenue.

"Is there a reason you ask, Will? Do you sometimes wonder what animal form you yourself would take?"

"Not often." Will's brow furrows, and he finally glances away, his chest heaving as the weight of Hannibal's eyes leaves him. He knew that Hannibal knew his next words before they left his mouth. "How about you, Doctor Lecter? Have any idea about your spirit animal?" Hannibal's smile grew once more.

"Of course. It is important to know oneself inside and out, and the animal one feels represented by can be indicative of many things about that person." He shakes his head slightly at Will's 'go ahead, then' gesture. "I'm interested in knowing your opinion about what animal form I might take." Will leans back against Hannibal's desk more fully, his weight on his forearms. He imagines Hannibal leaning forward, winking at him, and cooing 'Guess, Will.'. Strangely he found that scenario no less flirtatious than the one he was currently presented with.

"I feel as though the purpose of our meeting was originally so that you might study what's going on in my head." Hannibal sent him a look a disappointment, for, obviously, Will was aware that as of late, their conversations were far less one-sided in that way.

"So it was." Hannibal conceded after a moment. "And I shall try to deficer you. I am merely offering you the opportunity to do the same."

"This seems like an awkward icebreaker activity at a cooperate party," Will mused. He tried, and failed, to hide his excitement for the idea.

"I should hope you take it a bit more seriously than if it were. Surely the advantages of such an activity are not wasted on you, dear Will." He gestured to their armchairs, which, after a moment's consideration, they both moved to. Will leaned back into the plush fabric as he studied Hannibal, both accepting and eager of the challenge.

"And we are sharing with the class?" He checked.

"Of course; rather pointless otherwise. I can share first, if that is preferable." Will waved his accent, so Hannibal continued. "I find it difficult to summarize all of what you are into one creature - just as God must have felt, I suspect, when he decided to place all of your essence within the body of a man-" Will rolled his eyes, making certain Hannibal saw, though the doctor continued, unperturbed. "so forgive me if my comparisons overlap a bit as I go on." He looked at Will for a minute. "Also forgive me for saying so, but - they do say birds of a feather flock together."

It took Will a mere second to catch his meaning, and rude laughter burst from his throat.

"I feel there are infinitely less upfront ways to call me a stray mutt, Doctor Lecter."

"I never said you were a mutt. I merely suggested that you show similarities to your dogs."

"What - loyal to a fault, easily abandoned, a tad bit mangy, in need of a proper haircut?" Will's tone lost it's indifference and soured as he went on, and Hannibal's faint eyebrows rose as he became interested in the degree of insult Will took to his words.

"Not what I meant to imply, though it is rather telling that those are the traits you chose to focus on." He ran his eyes over Will's freshly shorn hair, admonishing him silently about one of his points, at least. "Again, I never said I had identified you as a dog, Will. Merely similar." They fell into a heavily weighted silence. "Care to share your thoughts on me, Will?"

"You're a carnivore."

"Not a moment's hesitation on that, I notice."

"I can hardly imagine you content to munch on only vegetation in any life. Your meals must have some... Zest... If anything. Some excitement. Some artistry." Hannibal accepted the commentary, inclining his head, narrowly avoiding a grin. "You said merely similar. In genus, if not species?"

"I'd say so." Will refused to ask him to elaborate, which only served to encourage him, regardless. "You're similar enough that they follow you as one of their own. A true pack leader, so to speak."

Will opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a buzzing in his pocket. He answered his phone after an approving nod from Hannibal, and stood when it was concluded. Hannibal's eyes followed him as he retrieved his coat, though he did not move from the seat until Will approached him, eyes hooded.

"You'll come by when Jack is finished with you, I hope?" Hannibal needn't have asked. Will looked near his face, avoiding his eyes, but nodded.

"That may be sooner than later. It's local, this time." He glanced at his watch. "Maybe tomorrow."

"You know I wouldn't close my doors to you if you appear after dark." Will knew.

"I'll see what I'm up to." He said vaguely. Hannibal moved to open the door for him, knowing full well that he'd be seeing the man later that night, regardless of what he might say.


	2. Identify

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many words are rendered unnecessary. Each of them lives in the other's mind, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of violence and gore below, beware.  
> (I'll continue to alert to potentially trigger-ish things in future chapters, let me know if there are any I miss, or should warn for in particular, thank you!)

Will wandered through the crime scene, lost in his own head and unable to fully immerse himself in this particular perpetrator's design; which, probably, was good for Will's psyche, but Will was not of the mindset to appreciate the distance. Jack greeted him at the residence will an arched eyebrow Will knew translated to "Lector?". He returned the greeting with a casual nod and a mouthful of aspirin. They walked pace-for-pace to the scene, Will staring with resolve at the floorboards. He offered no further information on that unspoken topic, and Jack didn't ask. Were Will in the proper mindset, he also might've appreciated that Jack no longer had so many doubts about Will - or, at the very least, that he no longer allowed those doubts to be visible or affecting their work. As it was, Will was fairly certain that he harbored more uncertainty for himself than Jack did, at that point.

Will arrived at the scene, studied it dutifully, and allowed Jack the pleasure of showing off his little trained show dog.

 _At least I'm less shaggy than before,_ Will mused, snorting a bit in self-depreciation.

He shared his insights, accepted Jacks gruff thanks, as well as the detailed reports and photographs they slipped him to "consider more when he got the chance". Some part of Will withered as he tossed the file onto his passenger's seat. He detested all the advances into his mind. Every case file he took home felt like it only served to wedge them in further, past the grasp they had on him at the actual crime scene. It was as if there was someone at every angle prepared to fill his mind with murder. He was tired of having his brain filled to the brim by foreign presences, and more than that, he was tired of being unable to fight back against them.

Especially in regards to that one presence.

Will dug the heel of his hand into his eyes as he navigated to Hannibal's house, partly in an attempt to physically shove out his headache, partly to excuse the car wreck he may or may not be praying for.

"Come in, Will." Hannibal answered the door before Will knocked twice. Will glances at his watch. It was 3:22am. "How are you doing, after Jack's circus of horrors today?" Hannibal kept his distance, allowing Will space as he shed his coat, wandered into Hannibal's dining room, and settled into a chair. He stared at the wall opposite.

"Why don't you ever just ask up front: 'how was the crime scene'?"

"You know how I despise rudeness in others. I should at least strive not to be a hypocrite." Hannibal replies smoothly. Will snorts.

"It was... well. It was enough to bring Jack. And enough to summon me. But it was also..." Will had to pause, searching for the correct way to explain - the way Hannibal wants to hear. "It was simple." He said "simple" like an insult. Hannibal inclined his head.

"What about this one forced Jack's - and by extension, your - involvement?" Will rubbed a hand over his face. He was too tired for mind games. He knew Hannibal was forever too hungry for them to give him a break.

"I have photos in the-"

"I'd rather hear your description, Will." Will ground his teeth. Hannibal had no interest in this murder - the victim, the circumstance, or the killer. Not only had this particular murder been already dismissed as "simple", but Will knew that Hannibal held other killers up to his own standard, and so he condemned so many of them to be sub-par. Will knew he was only interested in seeing what filter he viewed the world through - more specifically, how Hannibal himself had darkened that filter. It was like an old master, waiting anxiously to see his influence in his pupil's works. Hannibal needed to see proof of some sort that their "lessons"were not wasted. Hannibal was eager to see himself in Will. Will realized how satisfied he might be already - having converted Will into apathy towards what Hannibal would consider lesser killers.

"The victim was one Elizabeth Mc'Carthy, mother to a one-year-old." Will folded his hands and stared at the ceiling. "She was discovered by a concerned neighbor. She had been gutted. She bled out. When she was dead -" Will paused. "The killer moved the baby's playpin to the living room. They then cut Ms. Mc'Carthy's arms, legs, and head off. They used white yarn to attach her limbs to the blades of the fan, and then used Ms. Mc'Carthy's own hair to tie to the center of the fan - around the light bulb socket. The rest of her hair was tied to connect her head with her dismembered limbs. The torso and the rest of the unused bits were tossed into the bathtub. The play-pin - baby inside, asleep, most likely - no reason to wake him up, not really - was positioned underneath the fan. The child's mother dangled above him, like a crib decoration."

"So much detail in what you call a simple case."

"Are you disagreeing?" Will scoffed, sending Hannibal an annoyed look. Hannibal smiled without smiling, with the corners of his eye crinkling.

"Not at all. Forgive me, go on." Will heaved a sigh.

"Its message is simple, the symbolism is simple... the arrest will be simple, because of how sloppy, how careless the killer was..." Will's tone continues to bring a smile to Hannibal's face, and the older man joins him across the table. Not in the mood for Hannibal's subtle encouragements, Will plowed ahead. "The killer detested Ms. Mc'Carthy's... motherhood, hated that she had control, custody - that she had a deciding hand in what would happen in a child's life. They hated her because she was unworthy of such a responsibility. They thought that she would fail, that the child would suffer because of it, that she had no business being a mother."

"Like the spinning decals above infant's cribs," Hannibal cut in. "Providing a mere illusion of beauty and safety in a world that does so so very rarely, for one that doesn't know any better but to trust what they see."

"To an end - yes. The kid was young, hardly a year - but they felt she was already... just... placating him. Taking care of him in the least possible way - not abuse, but not parenting either, not really. The killer shaped her into a form which was better for the child." Will cringed. "In their eyes. They think she's doing as much good as a decal as a mother."

"That isn't all."

"No." Will agreed. "She wasn't just a bad mom. She was a single mom. Beyond that, a black widow - In the - In the killer's eyes..." Will falters with every slip, tired of correcting himself, of making sure people know that he's speaking in the voice of the killer, that these aren't his words, that of course he has sympathy for the poor woman, of course he's not agreeing with the killer, of course -

"Will." Hannibal's hand reaches across the table to rest atop Will's, and Will starts. "You're alright. I know." His hand is heavy and provides the illusion of safety that Hannibal had mentioned moment's earlier. Will thought of the heavy coats that people dress dogs in to calm them around loud noises. His tired brain offered up an image of himself as a mut, Hannibal's hand still his storm jacket. He closed his eyes and continued.

"Her hair was tied the way it was on purpose. It was meant to resemble a web. Looking at the house - no male influence anywhere to be seen. There is no Mr. Mc'Carthy - not anymore. She used him to procreate, and then he becomes conveniently... not anywhere, anymore. But no one believes that this sweet, single mother could do anything so cruel. Nobody sees her for what she is. She's forever the object of sympathy, forever the victim, meanwhile her child slowly moved towards being neglected and her husband is gone and there is nothing to do about any of it. I need to make sure someone sees her. They have to realize - she's the bad one. She's going to ruin that child's life if nobody does anything about it - like she did her husband." Will sucked in a massive breath, winded, and Hannibal squeezed his hands once. Sweat was beading on Will's forehead.

"A grandparent to the child." Hannibal said after a moment, allowing Will to catch his breath. "The late Mr. Mc'Carthy's father - or mother, perhaps." Will nodded, finally pulling his hands away from under Hannibal's to wipe the sweat off his brow. Hannibal watched him with a close intensity. "It is indeed remarkably simple. Why do you think it has you like this, Will?"

"I'm having trouble identifying the victim."

"I feel most would say the victim was the mother, or the child who has been condemned to the life of an orphan." Will glared at Hannibal over the tips of his fingers.

"Yes. No. I know they should be." He reached for the file and slid the photographs of the scene over to Hannibal, knowing he would immediately see what distressed Will so.

"You see the traces of emotion everywhere in the crime scene." Hannibal noted, though for the most part he seemed unimpressed by what he saw. "The anger, the indignation, the protective instinct... the raw desperation that was the catalyst for this crime."

"It was so sloppy," Will said. "because - because this wasn't a person who was meant to be capable of something like this. I know - anyone can become capable, but - they just... weren't supposed to become like this. And they knew it. Even as they were cutting Ms. Mc'Carthy apart, they were at war with themselves, with what they were becoming." Hannibal's face softened ever so slightly.

"You are the victim of this crime, then," He murmured. Will turned his head away, staring out the window. "Do you even now regret your becoming?"

"If I did," Will's voice was rough. "I'd have no one to blame but you - isn't that right?" Hannibal abruptly stood.

"Come to the kitchen. I should like to discuss things further over a light snack."

"It's 3:40 in the morning."

"A light snack, Will, not a meal." Will watched Hannibal arrange a small plate of sliced fruits, all of varying colors and cut into different elaborate shapes, and then top them with a light cream that he had stored in his fridge. Varnishing the small dish, he gave Will his portion and told him the name of the snack, which entered one of Will's ears and left out the other. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to hate Hannibal. He wanted to grab the fork Hannibal offered him and stick it into the man's brain. He stuck it into a star-shaped honeydew instead.

"Following our earlier conversation," Hannibal began, after watching Will eat for a moment. "I believe I offered more insight to your spirit animal than you did for mine."

"Really." Will scoffed. He licked along his fork, catching traces of cream with his tongue. Hannibal didn't remark about his lack of manners, though he watched the action closely. "I told you that you're carnivorous. To specify further would be to contain your essence into one being. That is definitely restrictive. Not fair to you." Hannibal caught Will's wrist as he brought the fork to his tongue again. Will allowed his to take the fork. They maintained eye contact as Hannibal moved to place it in the sink.

"I have already said as much in reference to you."

"You did. I'm less complex than you." Hannibal's eyes gleamed.

"Do you still resent that I very nearly implied that you were a dog?"

"Only because I feel like a dog." Will pushed his cleaned plate towards Hannibal. "A former rescue dog, maybe. A lot of training was put into me. Only in the end, it was worthless - I'm only suitable to be put down."

"Is that how you understand it?" Hannibal's voice was sharp. "You blame yourself, rather than those who worked to break you, to use you as a tool. Were you but a mut, you would be correct to do so - however, as I continue to insist, you are far beyond that. You're more proud than a simple mut. More ferocious. You were never meant to be tamed in the first place." The tone he used drew Will's eyes to his. They watched their reflections in each other's eyes. Will felt a heat in his chest catch tinder. He stood slowly, moved forward, then paused, opting to watch Hannibal wash the dishes.

"Are you not trying to train me?" Will asked hoarsely. He cringed at the weakness in his voice, and the fact that it emerged so naturally. Hannibal did not answer straight away. He finished rinsing their plates and placed them neatly in the dishwasher before turning to face Will. One of his hands moved to push Will's hair from his forehead. His expression was somehow tender.

"To capture a wild animal and force on them the lifestyle of an animal bred through centuries for domestication - that is cruelty. I do not want to be cruel to you, Will."

"Never stopped you before," Will said, but there was no bite behind his words. He leaned into Hannibal's touch and felt if he looked any closer into Hannibal's eyes, he would delve into his mind, and perhaps never return. Hannibal's eyes roamed his face, and he slowly combed his hand through Will's hair before pulling away.

"It is late. You have work tomorrow, and I cannot in good conscience allow you to neglect your health to stay up and continue our banter. I'll make up the guest bed. It'll be just a moment." As Hannibal disappeared up the stairs, Will imagined he saw fur rippling under his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Thanks to my bud Courtney over at Insanitytakesitstoll.tumblr.com for betareading this for me.  
> Hope I did their dialog alright, gods but I love their conversations - so multilevel and HOLY SHIT is there ever flirting. MORE SO season 2, when Will's looking at Hannibal just as close as Hannibal's been looking at Will.


End file.
